#thas gud enough for me :V

[artnerd1123]

Dimentio's Writer: hey belle! hope your days been supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

pfft- thanks fam XDit’s been alright!!! got to chat with a friend in the morning, went to lunch with some relatives, and i’m jus doin some arts rn :0

[thedemonconstantine]

adventurepunks​:

“Rich pricks leave their cars unlocked for the valet-”

And sure enough a little further down a Corvette would be their get away vehicle but seeing as it was a 1982 Corvette John’s moral still stood that older cars were easier targets. “I ain’t stealin’ some poor fella’s work vehicle dude.” No, a luxury car was more fun to wreck.

“JUMP IN FUCKER- WE’RE GOING TO MANHATTAN” Or something as Roy mounted the curb nearly running over John but luckily the youth had reflexes of a cat to take a single step back and avoid being a hood ornament.

Why walk to the bridge when you could drive to the bridge.

Havoc. Roy was not here just to hang he was here to wreak havoc and punish the state of New York for all his troubles.

“Yeah suck a dick too.” he flipped off a pedestrian cussing him out.

Roy wasn’t a bicycle sorta guy really.

“Hey to shitty lives-” lacking a bottle to toast Roy just fist bumped him.

A aimless ride till a 7/11 parking lot seemed a good place to dump the car.

“Get us beer I’ll get rid of our chariot”

It had been fifteen minutes so soon the number plate would be across all ANPR databases ready to flag the car.

Day time drinking with feet dangling over the edge of the bridge over the highway, it would be rock bottom if not in company.

“Eh, if you feel like talking about it talk about it, it don’t bother me none either way” If John felt like divulging over a beer sure, if John didn’t feel like reliving shit then it didn’t change nothing anyway.

“What’ d’ya play?” he asked and grabbed John’s wrist to look at his fingers.

“Guitar or bass?” Calluses meant strings.

“Wohsit, yeh drive?” John never bothered getting a license since the best mate he left back in London was the designated driver.

He howled when Roy went up the curb, kicked the tire for fun and games then scrambled into the passenger seat.

“Yeh full o’ bollocks yeh are!” Laughing and punching Roy’s shoulder and hooting when they zoomed off higgledly-piggedly down the road.

HONK HOOOONKKKK- BEEEP-

“AYE WELL YEH DA SELLS SAND DAGS ‘N YEH MA SELLS AVON!!” John stuck half of himself out the car to yell at the agitated drivers behind them, flipping them the V and smacking the car door as if it were a horse he could coax to go faster.

“Andalé, andalé!” Or whatever it was they said here!

Oop there went an old granny across the street, John leaned over to smash the car horn.

Beep beep!

“Oy dere, pre’ey lass! Care ‘ta go fer a ride wiff us lads?” He waved at her and whistled, and the old granny hobbled off faster than she ever did in the past.

Awww-

“Guess we’re too tacky fer ‘er, sweet uptown lass,” John sniggered through their fist bump and turned on the radio loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood.

Roy parked and he stumbled out and kicked the door shut, hands in his pockets and chewing on a fresh fag whilst perusing the bottles on display at 7/11. John emerged some minutes later with two pints and chocolates and a big bag of Lay’s.

“Tha’ was a ball, mate. Yeh alrite,” He beamed and gave Roy a happy nudge before settling down with a face full of crisps.

“Bass mostly. I kin do a coupla tunes on th’ blues ‘arp buh nah as gud as I should be,” John said through his crumbs.

“Left th’ Pool when I was 15, just ‘ad enough o’ me Da’s bullshite. Dropped out o’ skewl ‘n grifted meself in ‘ta London.

Met a circus o’ bollockin’ knob’eads tha’ I call me mates ‘n den we gots t’gever ‘n formed a band. Easy dosh, free booze ‘n fitbirds all around, it was brilliant until shite ‘appened.”

John stared at the highway below and sighed. Eh, chocolate would cheer him up.

“Started nosin’ abar dis sex cult goin’ on at a dive bar. Found a wee lass they were passin’ abar like a bong. She was barely 12.”

He stared at the Cadbury’s now and found his appetite completely gone. Fuck it.

“Tried ‘ta save ‘er. Ended up muckin’ th’ entire fokkin’ shite ‘n…aye, aye…

Well tha’s nah th’ end o’ it. After tha’ shite show I spent six monffs in a white padded box, shite was awful. Got out, me best mate decided ‘e couldn’t leave me be ‘n so took me in fer a while.

Bloke stayed wiff ‘is Ma hoo’s a fokkin’ menace, like. Did all sorts ‘ta make ‘er own son miserable. Bitch ‘ad a monkey hoo’s e’en worse.

Un fine day, me best mate comes in ‘n tells me ‘e can’t takes it any longer ‘n wants me ‘elp ‘ta kill th’ blasted monkey.

So I did.

Funny fing is, monkey’s soul is bonded ‘ta th’ Ma, see. Turns out she’s a fokkin’ witch. So monkey dies, she dies, ‘n she did.”

John threw his Cadbury’s at a passing truck.

“I just left. I couldn’t look at me best mate in th’ eye.”